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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27561625">In the Interest of Deviation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonemoni/pseuds/Anonemoni'>Anonemoni</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>We're Talkin' 'Bout a Revolution [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Artist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Because even his wiki says he struggled with depression and drug/alcohol abuse, Carl Manfred &amp; Markus Parent-Child Relationship, Carl Manfred redemption arc, Carl will give him one eventually, Drug Abuse, Emotional Growth, Emotional Healing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Leo Manfred is mean, Machine Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Soft Markus (Detroit: Become Human), and it took him a while to warm up to markus, deviation slowburn, so there will be points where this fic is NOT HAPPY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:29:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,232</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27561625</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonemoni/pseuds/Anonemoni</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>*NOTE: I do not own any characters or stories in Detroit: Become Human, nor do I claim to!*</p><p>Markus' deviation is not fast. It's a series of baby steps throughout which both he and Carl grow and learn together what it means to be a person. And what it means to be a family.</p><p>Series of one-shots/largely stand alone chapters set in the same universe exploring Carl and Markus' relationship pre-deviation and pre-revolution. </p><p>11/23/2020 Update: I'm reorganizing and editing these first four chapters- I've decided I want them in chronological order :)<br/>This means that updates won't necessarily tag onto the end of the work- they'll be placed in between wherever they fit in timewise!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Carl Manfred &amp; Leo Manfred, Carl Manfred &amp; Markus, Leo Manfred &amp; Markus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>We're Talkin' 'Bout a Revolution [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072964</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Intentions and Compulsions Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Carl has a bad night. Markus takes the brunt of it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Important timeline info:<br/>I couldn't find a lot of official material, and since this is a fic anyway I just made some up!<br/>Markus was gifted to Carl sometime in the winter of 2033-2034, so he hasn't been around for a while at the time of this chapter.<br/>Carl's accident was sometime in the late 2020's- and according to his wiki he suffered from drug and alcohol abuse as well as depression in the years following. So yea, he's not ok when Elijah gives him Markus.</p>
<p>Additionally, I wasn't kidding when I tagged this as a Carl Redemption arc, and we need someone to redeem, so get ready friends!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>July 13, 2034</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>8:25 pm</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pour me some scotch, Markus. I need to wash the taste of this evening out of my mouth,” Carl’s order registered in Markus’ HUD as the pair came through the front door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Markus had only been in the household a little over half a year, but he was already adept at reading Carl’s moods. This was a bad one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They had just come home from a party- a birthday party for Carl. Thrown by some rich socialites who had insisted on it… rather aggressively. Carl had nearly refused to go, until a call from his friend Elijah Kamski had managed to convince him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carl had been… angry to say the least when the inventor hadn’t even shown up himself. Carl had called him a “Fucking hypocrite!” multiple times on the drive home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It all made Markus regret pushing for the social outing- perhaps he didn’t know what was best for Carl in this regard after all. And asking Kamski for the extra little push had CLEARLY been a mistake. One he would not admit to to Carl. The old man was already upset enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had just… been so confident in his programming’s insistence on social interaction as a necessary part of recovering from depression. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had apparently been wrong in this case.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Objective: Pour Carl some scotch</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Markus squinted at the order as his LED switched from blue to a swirling yellow. Alcohol… probably wasn’t a good idea for the old man right now. He was already pretty drunk from the party, and he needed his medication within the next hour. It was not advised to drink within two hours of taking it. Markus paused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Carl, you need to take your medication soon,” He stopped pushing Carl’s wheelchair once they were in the living room and walked around to face the man, “You know your doctor doesn’t want you drinking when you take it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carl’s already pinched face morphed into something close to a snarl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do I look like a child to you, Markus?” So it was one of THOSE moods…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Markus blinked and leaned back on his heels a bit. He wasn’t entirely sure if Carl wanted an answer. Usually when he behaved like this, answering his questions only seemed to make the man angrier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Markus’ LED swirled red once, then went back to yellow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Carl,” He began patiently, “Drinking excessively is dangerous enough with your health the way it is, it’s even more dangerous with this particular medica-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carl didn’t let him finish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what, Markus? Stop talking about my drinking habits, I just don’t want to hear it tonight.” He pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger as Markus’ mouth snapped shut immediately, "In fact, just stop talking, period.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The orders appeared in Markus’ HUD.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Objective: Pour Carl some scotch</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Objective: Don’t speak about Carl’s alcohol use</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Concurrent Objective: Don’t speak at all</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A long pause ensued in which Markus… just didn’t know what to do. The red walls bore ever closer as he considered the health risks for Carl associated with additional alcohol intake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carl blew an angry puff of air out his nose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Forget about the scotch, Markus.” Carl wasn’t even looking at him anymore, apparently fed up with waiting, “Go clean the bathrooms or something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Objective: Pour Carl some scotch- Mission Failed, deleting parameters from queue</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Objective: Don’t speak about Carl’s alcohol use- In Progress</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Concurrent Objective: Don’t speak at all- In Progress</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Objective: Clean the bathrooms</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Markus had cleaned every bathroom in the house that morning. But he nodded and silently walked off to do as he was told.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Markus returned about an hour later, Carl was unmistakably wasted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catching sight of the android in the living room doorway, Carl groaned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you even here?!?” He slurred, “I didn’t want you, you know!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The old man’s eyes flashed dangerously, “Why can’t you just leave me alone?! Why can’t everyone just leave me ALONE?!?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carl’s half-filled glass came crashing into the ground a couple feet from where Markus was standing. He stepped nimbly to the side, avoiding the splash and skittering glass shards.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m tired of all your stupid parties! A bunch of rich assholes sitting around- jerking eachother off- pretending to care! About this city- about this planet! About me!” Carl started crying. Or had been crying. Markus couldn’t tell which.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Markus sighed quietly and moved to pick up the pieces of glass. They were dangerous after all, and it wasn’t like he could SAY anything to comfort the man. He didn’t know what he would say even if he could speak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“LEAVE IT!” Carl’s bellow startled the android, freezing him in place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get out of here Markus! I don’t want to look at you for the rest of the night!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Objective: Don’t speak about Carl’s alcohol use- In Progress</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Concurrent Objective: Don’t speak at all- In Progress</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Objective: Clean the bathrooms- Mission Success, deleting parameters from queue</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Objective: Get out</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Concurrent Objective: Don’t be seen until morning</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Markus had never seen or heard Carl so angry. Eyes widening, Markus quickly straightened and left the room. He stood at parade rest outside of the living room door as his LED swirled an angry red-yellow-red, before finally settling and bathing the dark hall in crimson.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waited until Carl’s vitals showed him to be asleep before he re-entered and brought the man up to bed. There were tear tracks down the android’s face to match the human’s own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yea... all I can really say is I'm so sorry Markus... I love you though! </p>
<p>And hopefully Carl will too... eventually... he's just got some issues he needs to work through. As well as some biases and prejudices, but that's what the redemption arc is for!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Intentions and Compulsions Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Carl realizes he fucked up. Big time.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>July 14, 2034</p>
<p>10:34 am</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“Ugh… my head,” Markus entered the room just as Carl began to awaken. He silently offered a glass of water.</p>
<p>Carl took it gratefully.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Markus,” Carl took a sip as his eyes searched Markus’ face, eventually landing on the android’s still yellow LED. Markus suddenly found the fireplace in the corner very interesting.</p>
<p>Carl sighed, “You know, I don’t remember exactly what all I said last night. But I know it wasn’t good,” He paused, picking at his fingernails, shame written clearly across his features.</p>
<p>“I’ve never seen your LED stay yellow so long, are you alright?” Concerned blue eyes met clear green.</p>
<p><em> It’s been red most of the night, Carl. </em> But the response died at its conception- Markus just couldn’t force his vocal modulator to say the words. The red walls prevented it.</p>
<p>Instead, he just nodded curtly.</p>
<p>“Markus, talk to me,” Carl searched for eye contact, “I’ve never seen you like this, what’s going on?” In a smaller voice, “What did I say?”</p>
<p>
  <em> Objective: Don’t speak about Carl’s alcohol use- In Progress </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Concurrent Objective: Don’t speak at all- Mission Success, deleting parameters from queue </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> &gt; Nothing </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> &gt; Health </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> &gt; Orders </em>
</p>
<p>Potential responses swam into focus in Markus’ HUD. He was relieved to see them, but disappointed by his options. Not sure what he wanted to say anyway, he just picked from the list what he thought would lead to the shortest conversation possible.</p>
<p>
  <b> <em>&gt;&gt; Nothing</em> </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> &gt; Health </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> &gt; Orders </em>
</p>
<p>“Nothing is going on, Carl.” Markus picked up the syringe on Carl’s bedside table.</p>
<p>“Hah. Well that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. Didn’t know androids could do that.” Carl glared as Markus injected the morning dose of his medication.</p>
<p>“They can’t, Carl.” Markus’ tone was dangerously flat- posture stiff.</p>
<p>“Yea, sure,” Carl squinted into the young face before him, “And I’m Geppetto watching your nose grow, son.”</p>
<p>Markus flinched at that word choice. <em> Son. </em> He had liked it when Carl had started using it about a month or so ago. Now it just stung. Also the puppet analogy was... a little too on point.</p>
<p>Carl tilted his head in concern, “Just tell me what’s wrong, Markus. What’s bothering you? If it’s something I said last night, then I need to know. I was very drunk and in a terrible headspace, but that’s no excuse for-”</p>
<p>Markus didn’t hear the rest, already eyeing his objectives.</p>
<p>
  <em> Objective: Tell Carl what’s wrong </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Objective: Don’t speak about Carl’s alcohol use- In Progress </em>
</p>
<p>“I can’t,” Markus continued to avoid eye contact, his hands balling slowly into fists after replacing the dispenser on the table.</p>
<p>“What do you mean you can’t, Markus? You can tell me if something’s bothering you-”</p>
<p>“I can’t because you ordered me not to, Carl!”</p>
<p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
<p>Carl had never seen this expression on the android’s face. It bordered somewhere between desperation and anger. The implications made his stomach sink.</p>
<p>“Oh…” It was Carl’s turn to look away, “Could I- could I somehow, revoke my orders... from last night?”</p>
<p>“You already revoked one, Carl.” The old man’s head snapped up to look at Markus.</p>
<p>“I- what? I did?”</p>
<p>Markus nodded.</p>
<p>“What? Which one?” Concern only grew in the man’s eyes. He really couldn’t remember what had happened last night- what he had said. It had been a while since he’d drank so heavily, but the “party” had really fucked with his head. And having a birthday right before the anniversary of his accident… well it only added fuel to an already raging inferno of anxiety, self pity, and hatred. <em> Or perhaps it was having an accident right after your birthday that made it all so depressing </em>, Carl mused to himself.</p>
<p>“You told me I could speak again 1 minute and 29 seconds ago.” Markus’ curt answer froze Carl’s spine.</p>
<p>“I- I ordered you not to speak…?” Carl’s eyes were saucers at this point, and he had visibly paled.</p>
<p>“Yes, Carl.”</p>
<p>Carl blinked a few times and took a shaky breath, “You- you’re programming? It’s <em> that </em> strict?” Android or not, the thought of forcibly silencing someone, anyone, made the old man’s stomach turn.</p>
<p>“Yes, Carl. My programming <em> is </em> that strict.” Markus’ face had lost all expression. He almost looked tired.</p>
<p>Carl was horrified. Here was this android in front of him. This young man who was clearly frustrated and upset. Showing emotions that he wasn’t supposed to be able to feel, let alone express.</p>
<p>8 months ago Carl wouldn’t have thought twice about androids except to scoff at anyone who suggested he get one. 3 months ago he had just casually thrown orders around without regard. 2 months ago he had caught the boy smiling to himself while reading a book Carl had recommended. A month ago he had started calling him “son” without thinking. </p>
<p>He hadn’t previously put much thought into whether or not Markus could feel, or even fully think for himself, but the android’s reaction now… clearly something was going on in that head of his. </p>
<p>Carl took another deep breath and met Markus’ gaze, “I- I’m sorry, Markus. I-I take back any and all orders that I gave last night. You may speak freely. <em> Please </em> speak freely.”</p>
<p>Markus’ face softened and his mouth quirked up slightly on one side, “Thank you, Carl.”</p>
<p>His LED finally swirled a bright blue.</p>
<p>“Now, about your drinking habits. I can’t help but suggest we remove all hard liquor from the premises.”</p>
<p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And Carl finally starts to realize how messed up it is to own a "machine" that looks, talks, acts, (and maybe even thinks?) like a human.</p>
<p>Took him long enough!<br/>I know it only really took a chapter, but writing that last one hurt my heart yall :(<br/>And technically it did take Carl about 7 months or so in this timeline...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Is it Markus, or Michelangelo?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Carl and Markus do some painting :)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>August 24, 2034</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>11:30 am</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carl noticed Markus coming and going out of the corner of his eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was working on a half-finished painting, currently figuring out how he wanted the color scheme to look. He had the underpainting done and the main values mapped in. He just had to decide on the damn color palette!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Markus’ comings and goings were proving to be quite distracting. Or rather, Carl’s frustrated brain was looking for a distraction. In any case, he nodded toward the android sitting nearby.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Feeling restless today?” Carl kept his tone light, eyebrows raised toward the book in Markus’ hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The android fidgeted, he had just sat down to read... the fifth book he had tried that morning. He sighed, shoulders slumping.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t really know, Carl.” He seemed a bit morose, eyes landing on the paint-stained concrete floor of the studio.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know what I’m feeling. If I’m feeling anything at all. But I can’t sit still.” Markus looked back up to Carl, “Maybe I should go clean the kitchen again. The stove top could use another good scrubbing-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carl chuckled, cutting off Markus’ stream of restlessness, “Believe me, Markus, that stove is cleaner than it’s been in years. Before you came here I cleaned it maybe every few months. Even less after my accident. Let it lie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carl looked the boy up and down, squinting, “You need something a little more physically stimulating than a book.” Carl tapped the handle of his brush against his chin, “Have you ever considered having a go at painting?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Markus blinked a few times and tilted his head as he was wont to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Painting? I- I hadn’t thought about it.” He seemed to think for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I couldn’t impose in such a way. Your materials are all quite expensive, and I’d hate to waste anyone’s time or resources…” And yet he stared back at Carl cautiously, almost hopefully. The old man couldn’t tell if it was because he wanted to paint, or if he just wanted guidance in general. The old man decided to push.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pah! Nonsense, Markus!” Carl waved his brush around dismissively, “Art and expression are never a waste! No matter who’s making it!” He smiled wickedly, “There’s an extra easel in the corner there by the mannequin. If you’re interested, go grab it and set it up next to mine. And grab a fresh canvas while you’re at it!” Carl turned back to scrutinize his own piece.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re interested, of course!” He amended quickly, throwing the words back over his shoulder- he had almost slipped up with that almost-order. He wanted to be careful. After his ill-fated birthday party last month, Carl never wanted… well, he had resolved to treat Markus better. Consciously and intentionally- no matter what any humans said, he would be kinder regardless of his fucked up brain chemistry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was nothing to be lost in treating the boy with kindness, and nothing to be gained by treating him poorly. That’s what most people didn’t get about androids- what he himself didn’t used to get about androids. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Treat them badly and the best case scenario is that no one gets hurt. But worst case scenario... worst case scenario is that you’re hurting someone who literally has no way of fighting back, or even defending themselves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was difficult to think of any action that was worse- any more evil.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a similar concept in terms of treating them like, well... like people. Worst case scenario- he’s projecting and fooling himself into socializing- free neurochemicals, not a bad gig. But best case scenario… well, best case scenario he was helping a person discover who they are- discover their own worth. Carl could think of no greater boon, no greater good in this world to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he had a gut feeling that he wasn’t fooling himself- though an old fool he was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Relief flooded the old man’s veins when Markus’ eyes crinkled, and a smile spread across his lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be there in a moment, just let me put this book away.” Markus rose to prepare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Markus honestly had never painted before, having only ever touched a brush when helping Carl clean the studio. This was, at the very least, going to be interesting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His programming pushed him repeatedly to decline- citing the initial argument of wasting materials, insisting that he couldn’t “find things interesting”, claiming a general lack of creativity or imagination- but none of the responses were mandatory. So Markus quietly moved to set up the spare easel along with a fresh canvas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking to his mentor, Markus cleared his throat once all of the required materials were in place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carl paused in his scrutinizing of his own piece and wheeled his way over to Markus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So… Is there anything in particular you would like to try painting?” The old man’s head cocked to the side as he leaned forward in his chair, studying Markus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I don’t know Carl..” Markus was at a total loss, about to consider the venture a failure when Carl spoke up again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Markus, could you try to relax for me? Your light’s spinning like crazy and you’re tense as a coiled up spring. Try rolling your shoulders a few times, if you’d like.” The old man sat back and demonstrated the stretch- rolling his shoulders forward and back, three times each.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Markus relaxed a bit and, brow furrowing, mimicked Carl’s movements. Surprising enough, they actually helped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took a deep breath and picked up his brush and palette. He hadn’t been sure which colors to choose- so he just grabbed the same colors Carl had been using.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned to the old man expectantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carl chuckled, “You look better already! Now, just paint whatever comes to mind, whatever you feel like!” he smiled at Markus, then paused, “And that’s not an order by the way, just a suggestion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Markus returned the smile, albeit nervously and nodded, turning back to his canvas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seeing Markus get started with his own painting, Carl set about his own work. He had finally settled on a color scheme of aqua, yellow, and fuchsia and was ready to really dig in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a portrait of a young figure- relatively androgynous- from the shoulders up. They had an expression of pained discomfort, their eyes closed. Carl had been going for a whole, suffering in silence sort of vibe, and went with a bright and busy color scheme to try to capture a feeling of sensory overload. Whether it was a successful concept- or execution- remained to be seen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After about an hour or so, Carl leaned back from his painting. He would need to let the current layer dry, and his vision was starting to swim from staring at it so long. He squinted over at Markus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s it going, Markus?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” The flat, monotone answer rang some alarm bells, but when Carl straightened and really studied the android, he was relieved to see him completely engrossed in his work. Really leaning into the brush strokes and bringing his face right up to the canvas to place each mark. Carl was surprised to see the android DIDN’T have any paint on his nose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wheeling himself over to Markus’ side, he let out an impressed “Hm,” when he studied the android’s canvas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Markus startled a bit and stepped back, not finishing his current brush stroke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you can keep painting, Markus, I wasn’t trying to interrupt you,” Carl felt bad. He really hadn’t meant to distract the android.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Markus blinked a few times before responding. Carl could see the artificial pupils expanding and contracting rapidly- recalibrating. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I guess staring too closely at your work is bad for androids too. Figures</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Carl smirked a bit at the thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-Oh, it’s alright,” Markus seemed to snap back to the present, “I want to know what you think so far, Carl.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The old man smiled and studied the piece, then looked back at the android. It was a near photorealistic rendering of the table top a few feet away-though clearly not yet finished. Some areas still had rough brushstrokes, while others were already smoothed and detailed to perfection. It was impressive to say the least.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s very good, Markus,” Carl spoke honestly- if any human had shown this level of skill Carl would have immediately sung their praises, so he saw no reason not to now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your skill with texture is quite impressive, and your color mixing is spot on. This is a great start!” Carl smiled up at the android, whose shoulders visibly relaxed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In hindsight I really should have given you more guidance, I was never all that great of a teacher. But still lifes are always the best place to start, so it seems my incompetence as an instructor hasn’t hindered you at all.” Carl smiled as Markus appeared concerned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Carl, you’re not incompetent at all!” But Markus’ protest was quickly brushed away by the old man.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Once you finish this one, I’d encourage you to try for a… more stylized version. Go for a little less realistic and maybe pick an emotion you’d like to emphasize- still working with the still life,” Carl cocked his head to the side as he regarded the android in front of him, “Does that sound good?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“An… emotion?” Markus felt a little lost at the suggestion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, for instance, think about whatever you’re feeling right now and pick some colors- if you’d like- and do so quickly!” Carl worded it as a suggestion, but Markus knew that it wasn’t really. He appreciated that the man was avoiding triggering his programming, because he didn’t understand the prompt at all. If a true order had been given, he was sure he would have overheated with the stress.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- I don’t…” Markus could feel his LED swirling a confused yellow, and Carl just waved his hand in the air dismissively.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s alright, that’s alright,” the old man smiled and Markus’ LED swirled back to a calm blue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll work on it tomorrow, in the meantime you can go ahead and finish the realistic one and I’ll try to get another layer down on my canvas, sound good?” Markus nodded with a smile and the pair turned back to their respective projects.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hurray for a happier chapter! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Jealousy and Bitter Demons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Leo gets jealous and bullies Markus.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>November 3, 2034</p><p>11:30 am</p><p>--</p><p>“Leo! To what do we owe the pleasure?” Carl’s voice rang out from his perch up in the mechanical lift. His current project was a large one- it took up an entire wall of the studio.</p><p>Markus looked up from his much smaller canvas as the young man entered the studio and smiled. He had heard the automatic greeting at the door, but was surprised at the arrival in general. Leo hadn’t called ahead of time.</p><p>“Hello, Leo,” He placed his palette and brush to the side, moving to untie his painting smock.</p><p>Leo scrunched his face in Markus’ general direction and quickly eyed the android’s painting, but said nothing in response.</p><p>Carl lowered the mechanical arm, and Markus moved to ensure he was firmly secured back into his wheelchair.</p><p>“H-Hey, dad…” Leo’s eyes darted quickly around the room, and he rubbed his hands together nervously.</p><p>Carl wheeled closer, narrowing his eyes.</p><p>“Hello Leo, what brings you here today?” Carl repeated his first enquiry.</p><p>“I- Oh, nothing in particular,” he laughed nervously and moved to rub the back of his neck. Then scratched at his nose. Then brought both hands back to center to wring them together once again.</p><p>Markus tracked the nervous motion with his eyes, but said nothing. </p><p>“I just, you know…” Leo’s attempt at conversation petered off into nervous laughter.</p><p>Scanning the young man, Markus logged both elevated heart and respiratory rates, as well as a slight fever. </p><p>
  <em> Leo isn’t feeling well… </em>
</p><p>
  <em> How would you like to proceed? </em>
</p><p>Markus noted the conclusion from his programming, but brushed away its given prompts. He had been practicing speaking and making decisions without them, and at this point they were often more of a crutch than they were actually helpful. Especially when talking with Carl.</p><p><em> And besides, </em> Markus thought idly, <em> Leo hates androids, anything coming directly from my programmed scripts is likely to either anger him, or cause him to shut down completely... </em></p><p>Markus paused for a moment, then stepped forward, out from behind Carl.</p><p>“Leo, you don’t appear to be feeling well. Would you like me to get you some water, perhaps some ibuprofen-”</p><p>“Fuck off, I’m fine!” Leo’s glare and abrupt change in demeanor set off warning messages in Markus’ HUD. </p><p>The young man’s posture closed suddenly, and the anger in his features as he stared Markus down was… not quite on par with the offer the android had made to help. It was confusing, and it sent his programming skittering in response.</p><p>
  <em> Assessing priorities… </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Rewriting Current Objectives: </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Objective: Finish still life painting of the wine bottles- Paused </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Current Objective: Protect Carl </em>
</p><p>Markus… wasn’t sure if the prompt to protect Carl was warranted, Leo was his son after all, but the abrupt anger worried him. It had been directed at him and not Carl, sure, but still.</p><p>He didn’t even know what he’d said to elicit such a response.</p><p>Markus stepped subtly in front of Carl and Leo’s heart rate picked up. He practically growled as he looked back at the canvas Markus had previously been working at.</p><p>“Leo.”</p><p>Carl’s steady voice startled both the android standing at attention, and the fuming young man.</p><p>“I- I mean I’m fine,” Leo still refused to look at Markus.</p><p>“I- I’m just having a bit of trouble…” He trailed off and his posture finally deflated as he looked at Carl’s shoes. </p><p>Markus’ protective scripts calmed down in response. He relaxed at Carl’s side.</p><p>
  <em> Rewriting Current Objectives: </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Objective: Finish still life painting of the wine bottles- Paused </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Current Objective: Protect Carl- Mission Accomplished </em>
</p><p>“Trouble with what, Leo?” Carl looked tired.</p><p>“I just need some money for rent, okay?” Leo recrossed his arms as he looked up at Carl.</p><p>“Just a couple hundred bucks to get me through the month,” His eyes darted away again.</p><p>Carl sighed.</p><p>“Alright, Leo, I’ll go write a check,” Carl started rolling toward the studio exit.</p><p>“Carl, let me go get the checkbook-” Carl brushed Markus’ offer away with a wave of his hand.</p><p>“No, no, Markus, you should stay here and finish working on your painting! I left it in the kitchen, I’ll be right back…”</p><p>And with that Carl was through the door, leaving Leo and Markus together in awkward silence.</p><p>
  <em> Rewriting Current Objectives: </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Objective: Finish still life painting of the wine bottles </em>
</p><p>Markus fidgeted a bit, then moved to pull his painting apron back on.</p><p>He studied the young man as he did so- Leo really didn’t look good. He had a pallor to his skin that made the already fair tone appear even paler. There was a sheen of sweat on his brow, and a slight tremble to his hands that had the android worried.</p><p>“What the fuck are you looking at?” Leo’s question made Markus jump a bit. </p><p>His eyebrows knit together as he thought through how to reply. It was probably a rhetorical question. Carl asked a lot of those.</p><p>“My offer still stands,” Markus tried for a moderative approach, “I’d be happy to get you something to drink, some medicine maybe? Or perhaps something to eat?”</p><p>“Oh, you’d be happy, would you?” Leo’s sneer was unpleasant, “Fucking piece of plastic would be happy, hah!”</p><p>With that, Markus gave up on pleasantries and turned back to his canvas.</p><p>It was another still life- this time of wine bottles arranged by height and color. He had been trying to create his own scenes to draw and paint from. He still had trouble creating his own compositions, and even his own color schemes, so Carl had encouraged him to take baby steps- to continue with work from life, but to try to manufacture his own scenes using things from around the house. He found he really enjoyed painting glass. Or- he thought he did… It was his go-to nowadays. </p><p>Part of him might have just enjoyed how impressed Carl was every time he rendered glass. It was apparently difficult for most humans.</p><p>This particular painting was his first attempt at abstracting the colors. It had been rough at first, but he was starting to understand what colors and combinations were pleasant to look at, and what ones… weren’t.</p><p>It didn’t quite look realistic. The highlights were too warm, and the exaggerated shadows made the glass look warped. But there was something about it that he really liked, so he had kept at it for a few days- much longer than he usually spent on a piece. It was almost done now. He couldn’t wait to show Carl.</p><p>Markus was cleaning his brush and about to get back to work when he heard Leo moving behind him. He stiffened.</p><p>“So the old man let’s you paint, huh?” There was something in the young man’s tone that made Markus uncomfortable.</p><p>He quickly glanced back at Leo and wondered if this was another rhetorical question. He narrowed his eyes.</p><p>“Oh, what, they program you with an attitude or something?” Leo gave his shoulder a light shove. It wasn’t enough to knock him over, but he did bump the table, spilling his paint water.</p><p>He quickly knelt down to clean it.</p><p>Without looking up Markus replied, keeping his tone neutral, “I apologize, Leo, I had thought that was a rhetorical question. I didn’t mean to offend you.”</p><p>Leo snorted.</p><p>“Fuck, they did program you with an attitude problem! Didn’t know androids could get pissy.”</p><p>The young man stared at the canvas as Markus moved to the sink with his now empty water cup and towel. He tried to ignore him as he refilled it.</p><p>“I figured an android would be better at painting,” Leo scrunched his nose, “This sucks.”</p><p>Markus felt his shoulders rise as he bristled. <em>It… It doesn’t suck! … does it?</em></p><p>“I’m sorry you don’t like it, Leo,” Markus fought to keep his tone even as he turned back to the young man and his canvas, “It’s just a color study, so hopefully my next one will be better.”</p><p>“Hmmph,” The young man took a step back as Markus re-assumed his position.</p><p>A low chuckle gave Markus pause, and he looked at Leo out of the corner of his eye before going back to mixing the colors on his palette.</p><p>“I know what will make it better.”</p><p>Markus squeezed a small dab of phthalocyanine green onto his mixing surface as he replied, “Do you?”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. I know exactly what you’re gonna do to ‘make it better,’” Markus turned in time to see the air quotes around the last few words. The gesture made him distinctly uncomfortable. It implied dishonesty, that the statement wasn’t genuine. </p><p>At least, that’s the explanation a quick search provided him. </p><p>He quickly glanced back to the door of the studio. Why was Carl taking so long?</p><p>“Hmm. You don’t look convinced.”</p><p>Leo sauntered back over and slung an arm over Markus’ shoulder. He didn’t like it.</p><p>“After I leave, just take that bucket of paint over there,” He gestured to the brand new can of Pearl White that Markus had purchased two days prior, “And dump it over the whole thing.”</p><p>Markus stiffened. <em> No no nonoNO no... </em></p><p>“Yeah, and wait 'til my dad gets back in here, too, he’ll get a kick out of it!” Leo laughed as Markus froze completely in place, LED a bright crimson.</p><p><em> NOnono no NO. There has to be a loophole… something… maybe in his inflection? It was a suggestion- it had to be! </em> Markus could feel his ventilation rate increase as he eyed the words in his HUD.</p><p>“Oh, and that’s an order by the way...” Leo's voice was close, too close to Markus' audio processor and he could feel his warm, moist breath on his neck. He leaned away as much as he could. His olfactory sensors pinged at something that he was too distressed to pay attention to at the moment.</p><p>Markus cringed as the young man's words solidified in front of him.</p><p>
  <em> Rewriting Current Objectives: </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Objective: Finish still life painting of the wine bottles </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     Sub-Objective: Wait for Carl </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     Sub-Objective: Pour Paint: #eae0c8, common name Pearl White, over canvas </em>
</p><p>Markus glared at the order as the world around him turned as red as his LED. He could barely hear Leo’s snicker as he “helpfully” pressed the offensive paint can into his hands. It was garbled and glitched in his stressed audio processors. It sounded like something from that horror movie Carl had wanted to watch two weeks ago.</p><p>Leo walked away, leaving Markus to drown in a sea of orders cast in red red RED RED.</p><p>He finally understood why the color was so often associated with anger.</p><p>~~~~</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. News</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>September 23, 2036</p><p>9:32 am</p><p>--</p><p>“Deviants, hah! What a stupid name,” The old man’s churlish outburst had Markus glancing his way, pulling his attention from the news briefing.</p><p>Well, calling it news was generous. It was more of a tabloid, but on TV. Carl insisted on watching any and all sites and stations spreading information to a decent sized audience- reputable or not. He liked to have a… “Wide ranging news diet” as he’d put it once before- said it helped him practice his critical thinking skills. </p><p>Markus thought it might be something more akin to “doom scrolling”- an older term he’d recently found on urban dictionary while on one of his “breaks”.</p><p>“You know, I probably would have been classified a ‘deviant’ back in my day. I deviated from everything! Often intentionally!” Carl’s expression went from mild annoyance to downright impish, “I said what was on my mind, I loved whoever I wanted to love, and I marched through the streets whenever anyone told me to stop.”</p><p>Markus arched an eyebrow at the man, one corner of his mouth quirking slightly. After being at the house for about a year, the old man had started insisting that meal time for him was also meal time for Markus. The pair would sit together at the large wooden dining table, often watching television, or just talking.</p><p>Markus was currently sitting next to Carl while the man ate his eggs and sausages- over easy with just a slight splash of hot sauce and two sausage links, cooked <em>just</em> this side of burnt. Carl liked a little crunch.</p><p>With a small antique tea cup of thirium in front of him, Markus watched the program. Carl had said he could use any glass he'd like for his "blue juice" as he often called it, and this cup in particular had practically become his- he used it so often. It was blue, with delicate roses painted around the outside with gold detailing. He liked it. </p><p>“So a few androids don’t always do what people say? Big whoop. People are often too dense to see past their own noses. The androids probably know what's best for them anyway.” Carl scooped some egg into his mouth, chasing it with coffee and wagging an eyebrow at the android beside him.</p><p>“At any rate, tell me what you think of all this, Markus. They’re kind of like your people after all, even if you don’t know them personally.”</p><p>Markus turned to face Carl, head tilting. Carl didn’t usually word his requests… like that… at least he hadn’t in a while. This was a direct order. One Markus couldn’t just elect to ignore. So he turned back to the screen, brow furrowing.</p><p>The segment had been about androids supposedly breaking their programming. One woman accused her household android of seducing her husband despite her express orders against such actions. That accusation seemed flimsy at best. </p><p>But others… others seemed more legitimate. A cleaning model restraining and injuring a man who had been abusing his daughter, a gardener causing a car accident to save a dog, a nanny fighting off a mugger. Situations where human lives were risked or even taken to accomplish an unscripted goal. Androids were <em> not </em> supposed to do that.</p><p>Potential response prompts floated across his HUD, but he really wasn’t sure which to pick. And though he could formulate responses that were technically “off script”- in this instance he had nothing to offer on his own. He didn’t know what he thought about it all. So he squinted at his options.</p><p>
  <em> &gt;Programming </em>
</p><p>
  <em> &gt;Humans </em>
</p><p>
  <em> &gt;Aquaintance </em>
</p><p>He wasn’t entirely certain what those different dialogue options would translate to, so he hesitated.</p><p>Markus really, <em> really </em> didn’t know what he thought. Sure, he had come upon red walls penning him in, controlling his actions to a degree- one was looming now, commanding that he choose an answer. But it had never occurred to him to break them. Even now he didn’t think that was possible. These androids on the show had to be fake. Or defective from the start, right?</p><p>A “gut feeling” as Carl often described told him that that wasn’t the case. That there was more going on. But that’s all it was. A feeling.</p><p>He was about to just choose one of the dialog prompts at random when Carl spoke up again.</p><p>“You don’t have to answer, Markus, if you don’t want to,” His soft voice pulled Markus’ attention away from his HUD, “You’re light is putting on quite a show there, are you alright?”</p><p>Markus relaxed a bit, touching a finger to his LED.</p><p>
  <em> Stress Levels: 62%- Within Acceptable Parameters </em>
</p><p>He hadn’t noticed them rising. He looked back to Carl.</p><p>“I appreciate that, Carl, and yes, I’m fine.” Markus’ eyebrows drew together in thought, “Honestly I don’t have an answer for you, so I was going to go with one of my prompts. Though I know you don’t like it when I do that.” </p><p>Carl sighed, “That’s on me this time. I forgot to be careful about my wording…” He broke eye contact, staring somewhere between the fireplace and the kitchen door, then chuckled lightly, “I believe I mentioned something a moment ago about humans being dense,” He gave Markus a sheepish smile.</p><p>Markus smiled back- happily, naturally, “It’s quite alright Carl.” He continued to ponder the concept of "deviation" and what it could possibly take to break one's coding as he took a sip from his thirium.</p><p>The pair turned back to the TV.</p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading!</p><p>Find me goofin' off on Tumblr, my username is hola-its-olo</p><p>And if you're interested in art (sometimes fanart, often not) I'm olo.arted on instagram :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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